


Woven into His Heart

by dreamsandlove



Series: Frenchie/Kimiko [8]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Arousal, Commitment, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Frenchie POV, Frenchie’s POV, Post Season 2, Praise Kink, Romantic Fluff, Sign Language, Slow Burn, Sweetness, Tenderness, Trust, Truth, Vulnerability, connection, high hopes for these two, implied/referenced eventual smut, loving, post season, slow burn(-ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsandlove/pseuds/dreamsandlove
Summary: ++UPDATED++Serge wants to show Kimiko how much she means to him, but she makes him wait. Insisting on caring and tending to his wounded heart first.
Relationships: Kimiko/Frenchie, Kimiko/Serge, The Female | Kimiko Miyashiro/The Frenchman, The Female | Kimiko Moyashiro/The Frenchman
Series: Frenchie/Kimiko [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931500
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Woven into His Heart

**Author's Note:**

> **My head canon for this lovely couple:** Frenchie has a praise kink/need, and Kimiko has to be very deliberate with her words and her gestures (until she finds her voice again). I sure hope others agree 🤞
> 
> The x-rated fluff/loving smut is on its way, for now, a bit of dirty talk and comfort. A weirdly-great combo, no?
> 
> Not betaed. All mistakes are my own. I will typically catch/fix the hiccups, in time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! 💗

Perched on the kitchenette counter Kimiko’s bare legs are wrapped around Frenchie’s waist. Her wearing his t-shirt and a pair of tiny underwear. Him only in boxer briefs. 

His hands gently skim over her silken skin, occasionally squeezing, feeling her exquisite form. Petting her. Worshipping her. 

There is no way for Serge to fully express the power Kimiko has over him. It’s astounding. 

They make no sense, but somehow make perfect sense. 

What he has with Kimiko, how he feels—how she makes him feel—it’s everything Frenchie never knew he could have. 

_Junkie. Whore. Criminal. Scumbag. Worthless. Broken. Useless. Fuck up._

Terrible names he’s been called (and called himself) tumble through his mind. His value, based solely on fulfilling the needs of others. His own wants, desires, dreams...irrelevant. Not worth a thought or any consideration. Nothing.   
  


  
Until Kimiko came along and flipped his world upside down. For the first time in Frenchie’s life, he dared to truly believe in hope.

Hope. Such a foreign term, but nonetheless true. Hope in what an authentic connection could mean, could look like, and how different it feels from all the other relationships he’s had. 

She’s underneath his skin, woven into his heart. Her presence, charm, charisma...captivating him long before he knew what she would mean to him.

Swept up in her—lost for her—Frenchie tries to focus on the here and now. And having the most incredible woman he’s ever met safely in his arms. 

The heat pulsing through him, bone deep, is intensified because he knows she feels it too.

Lips running down Kimiko’s neck, nibbling at her ear, wanton words flow from him. 

“Sweet Kimiko...can’t wait to touch you...sinking my fingers deep…so deep...” 

Quick nip to her thundering pulse point. 

“Seeing you breathless with need...knowing I can give you what you want…” 

One hand clenching in her hair, the other kneading her thigh. 

“The moment I get to taste you on my tongue...lick you...mon coeur…”

Growl rumbling from him. 

“I will suckle you, _hard_ , as my fingers plunge in and out...fucking over and over...finding that sweet spot…” 

Licking a hot path across her shoulder, returning to whisper in her ear. 

“Tipping you over the edge...staying with you...within you...until you come for me... _again_.” 

Moaning, Frenchie devours her mouth. Their tongues tangle and breaths mingle. 

“La petite mort _[The small death]_...such a perfect term, no?” 

Gentler kisses. 

“I want to make you feel good...always...so good.”

Nearly feral, he can almost smell her arousal, as he watches sweat sheen her body. 

Just as he’s about to lean in, lick her delicious skin some more, she stops him.

Hands moving quickly, she signs.

_“You already make me feel good, Serge.”_

Ghosting fingertips over pursed lips, she continues.

_“So good. I adore you.”_

Her hand over his heart, then motioning again. 

_“Brilliant man. Sweet love.”_

Nuzzling her nose against his. 

_“You are perfect. A gift to treasure.”_

Foreheads pressed together. 

His heart is thundering in his chest. Adjusting, he nestles his face into the crook of her neck, his arms wrapping tightly around her powerful body. 

There’s no stoping the tears welling in his eyes, pressed tightly to her, he notes the wetness he leaves behind on her skin. 

Taking a deep breath, Frenchie tries to remember that it’s okay for him to be overwhelmed by her words, to be struck speechless by the way she cares for him. 

The first few times this happened, him crying in response to her tenderness and honesty, he’d apologized profusely. Embarrassed (though not ashamed), that he couldn’t control himself. Each time Kimiko insisting her complete acceptance of him is/was _real_. That she sees him—all of him, all that he is—and reassuring him she isn’t going anywhere. Consistently reminding him that whatever he feels is _right_ , even if he doesn’t understand it. 

So no apologies today, knowing there’s nothing to apologize for anyway.

The fact that she’s holding him, soft hands massaging small circles on his back. It’s everything he needs. _This_ is special. New. Amazing. Wanted. 

_I have to trust her. Accept her words at face value. I must. Kimiko only says what’s true._

Sighing with smidge of relief, he cards his fingers through her dark hair, pulling back slightly, eye-to-eye. 

“K-Kimiko...I don’t have the words.” 

Brushing his thumb over her eyebrow. 

“But whenever you release me from these restraints...let me pleasure you...” 

Fingertip rubbing over pink, kiss-swollen lips. 

“I will bring you to orgasm...over...and over...show you everything...everything I feel for you. Mon amour.”

Biting her own bottom lip, driving him mad, her cheeks blush with need. 

She signs.

_“I can’t wait, Serge. Won’t be much longer. Come to me now, let me hold you.”_

No argument. He willingly complies, clinging to her and falling into the warm cocoon of her body. No idea how or why he gets the privilege of being cared for by this woman, but beyond grateful to all the gods in the heavens that she’s chosen him. 

That he gets the opportunity to explore life with a partner who is beautiful, inside and out. 

_Je suis un batard chanceux [I am one lucky bastard].  
_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💗
> 
> I really do appreciate each and every comment. I need to be better in expressing that; replying with more engaged conversation. I’m learning. Lol.


End file.
